
■;&'•. %A^' :l 



The Congressman 

A Comedy in Three Acts 



By 

W. C. PARKER 

Author of "-"-Artfor Breakfast^'' etc. 




PHILADELPHIA 

THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 

1914 



P535Si 
'1 't 



Copyright 1914 by The Penn Publishing Company 



The Congressman 



■^ NOV 20 1914 

©CI.0 ;j885;j 



The Congressman 



CHARACTERS 



NOTE. — The Characters are mentioned in the order in 
which they first appear. 

Gertrude Lawrence . wife of Congressman Lawrence 

Henderson the Laivrence butler 

Marjorie MacDonald . daughter of Graham Mac Donald 
George Melville . secretary to Congressman Lawrence 
Congressman Arthur Lawrence . . . representative 

fro?n New York 
Frank Landon Washington corre- 
spondent of the ^^ Chronicle " 
Genevieve McSorley . society reporter of the ''Argus " 

Mrs. Peterson a neivspaper reporter 

Frederick Flint a railroad lobbyist 

Graham MacDonald . . Gertrude Lawrence' s brother 
Jim Callahan a political ^^ boss ^^ 

Time. — The present. 

Place. — Act I, Washington. Acts II and III, New York. 

Time of Playing. — About two hours. 



NOTICE. — Amateurs are free to produce this play, 
but the sole professional rights are reserved by the author, 
who may be addressed in care of the publishers. 



COSTUMES 

Gertrude. Twenty-seven. Act I, evening gown. Act 

II, house gown. Act III, traveling costume. On second 
appearance, remove coat, hat and gloves. 

Henderson. Fifty. Butler's uniform throughout. 

Marjorie. Nineteen. Act I, evening gown. Act II, 
house gown. Act III, afternoon gown. 

George. Twenty-one. Act I, evening dress. Acts II 
and III, business suit. 

Arthur. Thirty-two. Act I, evening dress. Act II, 
business suit. Act III, afternoon dress. 

Landon. Thirty. Act I, evening dress. Acts II and 

III, business suit. 

Genevieve. Twenty-five to thirty. Act I, extravagant 
evening gown. Acts II and 111, flashy street costume. 

Mrs. Peterson. Thirty or over. Plain black gown, re- 
lieved with white lace. 

Flint. Forty. Act I, evening dress. Act II, business 
suit. Act III, afternoon dress. 

Graham. Forty-five. Act 1, evening dress. Gray wig 
and pince-nez. Act III, business suit. 

Callahan. Thirty or over. Loud plaid suit. Cheap 
silk hat, worn on one side of head continually. Fancy 
waistcoat. Green tie. Tan gloves. Large cheap cane. 
Chews large cigar. 



PROPERTIES 

Act I. — Pads of paper and pencils for Mrs. Peterson and 
Landon. Table bell. Bundle of papers for George. 

Act II. — Writing materials on desk. Two large scrap 
books. Telephone on desk r. Lump of ore ; this should 
be about the size of a man's fist, and may be prepared by 
coating a stone very lightly with dull gold paint, leaving 
some places untouched. 

Act III. — Traveling bag for Gertrude. Letters, telegram 
blanks, etc., on desk. Tray and card for Henderson. 
Newspaper. 

4 



SCENE PLOTS 
ACT I 

Interior backing 




Scene I. — Handsomely furnished room in Congressoian 
Lawrence's Washington house. 

ACTS II AND III 

Interior backing 



Door 



//' 



-_ Chair 

CyChair 



Door 



/Desk 




Scene II. — Library in Congressman Lawrence's New 
York house. 



The Congressman 



ACT I 

SCENE. — Interior backings fourth grooves. Handsomely 
furnished room boxed in third grooves. Doors ^ C, R. 
and L. Table, C. Leather chairs, couches, bric-d-brac, 
etc., to dress stage. Lively music till curtain up. 

(^Discovered, Gertrude Lawrence, c. She ritigs table 
bell. Enter Henderson, c.) 

Gertrude. Is everything in readiness for the reception, 
Henderson ? 

Henderson. It is, madam. I have just made the rounds 
and every arrangement seems perfect. 

Gertrude. Very well ; and Mr. Lawrence ? 

Henderson. Will be down directly. Anything else, 
madam? 

Gertrude. No, except that I want you to do all in 
your power to help make this ball the most brilliant that 
Washington has ever seen. I rely upon you, Henderson. 

Henderson. Thank you, madam. I shall do my very 
best. (^Bows arid exit, c.) 

{Enter Marjorie MacDonald, l., leading George Mel- 
ville.) 

Marjorie. Oh, auntie ! Look who's here ! 

{Swings George around in front of Gertrude.) 

George. Yes ; you'll keep on throwing me around until 
you'll break me, and then perhaps you'll be sorry. 

Marjorie. That would be making an awful break — 
wouldn't it? 

Gertrude {reprovingly). Marjie ! 

7 



8 THE CONGRESSMAN 

George {to Marjokie). Better behave yourself, or Mrs. 
Lawrence will be sending you home. 

Marjorie {to George). Sir ! You forget that I am to 
be the supreme novelty of a noted congressman's reception 
to-night, and sending me away might cause international 
complications ! 

Gertrude. What on earth are you talking about? 

Marjorie. Why, you know very well that 1 am about 
to make my debut to-night, and how can there be a debut 
without a debutante ? 

George {laughing). Well, of course that is important. 

(Marjorie starts toward George /;/ a threate?iijig maimer. 
He dodges r. She follows.') 

{Enter Congressman Arthur Lawrence, c.) 

Marjorie {running to Arthur). Oh, Uncle Arthur, 
I'm so glad to see you ! {Hugs and kisses Arthur.) 
You're just in time to protect me from this {surveyinsj 
George eontemptuously) graven image of a human being ! 
Look out 1 Don't touch him ! He might fall to pieces ! 
He's only a glass imitation ! 

George {to Marjorie, /// a heroic manner). Beware ! 
Woman ! Glass can cut. 

Marjorie. I'll cut you to-night, all right. I'm going 
to dance with a real live ambassador ! 

George. My ! What a sharp retort ! 

Arthur {laughing). Might as well give it up, George. 
Never try to measure wits with a woman. You'll get the 
worst of it every time. 

Marjorie. You just bet he will. 

{Deliberately turns her back to George and comes down, R.) 

Arthur. Well, Marjorie, how do you like our new 
home? {Comes down, v..) 

Marjorie. It is simply gorgeous ! 

Arthur. I'm glad you think so. 

Marjorie. Oh, I nearly forgot — papa went over to the 
club to look for you. 

Arthur. Too bad I missed him. How is ne ? 

Gertrude (c). He seemed worried to death; he's so 
anxious for you to take up his law case. 

Arthur. I'll try to talk it over with him to-night. 



THE CONGRESSMAN 9 

Marjorie. I do hope you will. Then maybe we'll have 
some peace in the family. 

(George comes down, l., and looks over paper he takes 
from pocket.') 

Arthur. Too bad that my s[)are time is so limited. I 
certainly owe something more than mere talk to your {to 
Gertrude) only brother. 

Makjorie. Oh, I'm in such a hurry for the proceedings 
to commence ! Just like Uncle Art, when he's waiting to 
make a speech in Congress. 

{All laugh.-) 

George {to Arthur). I've prepared a list of the guests 
for the newspaper people and arranged a supper for them in 
the conservatory. 

Makjorie. Is the Speaker of the House really coming? 

Gertrude. I. believe so. 

Makjorie. If he speaks to me, I'll be too scared to 
answer. 

Gertrude. I'm only afraid you'll talk too much. 

Arthur. If she does, we'll send her to bed. {To 
George.) By the way, who is going to take her in to 
supper ? 

George. Mr. Flint. 

Marjorie. What! that old mummy ? 

Arthur {laughing). Why did you put her with him ? 

Marjorie. Probably because he thought I'd be out of 
danger. And I had my cap set for the Ambassador. 

Arthur {jokingly). Well, don't you dare to flirt with 
Flint. He's really dangerous. 

Marjorie. The newspapers do say awful things about 
him. 

Arthur. So they do of everybody. They say awful 
things about me. 

Marjorie. Then they tell great big lies. 

{Embraces Arthur.) 

Gertrude. Marjie ! You'll get your gown all mussed ! 
Arthur {looking knowingly at George). Won't she be 
a terrible little boss when she gets married ? 
Marjorie. I'm going to be just like auntie. 
George. Then you'll have to change mighty quick. 



10 THE CONGRESSMAN 

{Enter Henderson, c.) 

Henderson. The guests are arriving, sir. 

(^ExeufU, c, all but Henderson, laughing and chatting. 
Orchestra heard off stage. ) 

{Enter Frank Landon, l., followed by Genevieve Mc- 
SoRLEY and Mrs. Peterson.) 

Landon {to Henderson). One moment, please. (Hen- 
derson returning, bows,') Will you kindly direct us to the 
place reserved for reporters ? 

Henderson {pointing to door, r.). That is the room, 
sir. 

{Exit, c.) 

Genevieve {looking out door, r.). Why, there is a 
supper table in there ! 

Landon. Quite naturally. You certainly did not ex- 
pect Congressman Lawrence to neglect to provide food for 
the press? 

Genevieve. Well, what do you know about that? I 
suppose they think we are not good enough to associate with 
the guests ? 

MkS. P. Why, you'll get just as good a supper as they 
will. 

Genevieve. Well, if I had known we were going to be 
shnved off into a side room like that, 1 shouldn't have come. 
I didn't come as a reporter, anyway. 

Landon {laughing). How did you come? 

Genevieve. Well, I won't stand it to be treated like a 
servant ! I shall complain to Congressman Lawrence ! 

Landon. Oh, let him alone. He's got enough on his 
mind. 

Genevieve. Yes, I dare say the railroads require pretty 
much of his attention right now. 

Landon. You certainly don't believe that fairy tale? 

Genevieve {in a superior manner). Don't 1 ? J get 
around some in the course of a day. 

Landon. They can't prove anything. 

Genevieve. Oh, well, of course 1 never actually saw a 
railroad step up and hand him money, but 

Landon. Well ? 



THE CONGRESSMAN I I 

Genevieve. Well, I Oh, pshaw ! What's the use? 

We won't have a chance to see anything. 

Landon. Oh, well, you can go in after the guests have 
finished. 

Mrs. p. I must see the dresses, anyway. 

Genevieve. I've a good notion to fake my stuff. 

Mrs. p. Don't. Your managing editor will find it out 
sure as shooting. 

Genevieve. Pooh ! What do editors know about gowns ? 
The more you fake in this business the better you are liked. 

{Exit^ R.) 

{^Burst of music and laughter heard, off c.) 

Landon. Well, we'll have to get busy if we are going to 
get this stuff to press by midnight, 

Mrs. p. Pve never done a society affair before. I 
hardly know how to commence. 

Landon. Let's get out of the way, and I'll help you 
with your copy. 

{Exit, R,, after Mrs. P.) 

(^Enter Marjorie and Frederick Flint, c.) 

Flint. So this is your first affair? 

Marjorie. Yes. Of course I'm terribly frightened. 

Flint. At what ? 

{They come down c.) 

Marjorie. Oh, all those wonderful men with their 
queer wives. Why is it that most great men marry such 
peculiar women ? 

Flint. Better be careful. You might be overheard. 

Marjorie. I'm not very diplomatic, am I ? 

Flint. Oh, you'll learn. Diplomacy comes with age. 
It's only the very young who can afford to be perfectly 
frank. 

Marjorie. Uncle Art must be luckier than most states- 
men. Don't you think auntie is perfectly lovely ? 

Flint. Yes. She is perfectly lovely. 

Marjorie. If I were a man, I should fall head over 
heels in love with her. 



12 THE CONGRESSMAN 

Flint. And then what would happen ? 

Mat^jokie. Why, I'd marry her, of course. 

Flint. And pray what would beconcie of Mr. Lawrence? 

Makjorie. Uncle Art ? Oh, I'd have fallen in love 
long before he came along. 

Flint. But suppose you had fallen in love with her 
after he came along ? 

Makjorie. I don't like to suppose unpleasant things. 
Anyway, there's only one man in the world good enough 
for lier. 

Flint. And that is 

Marjorie. The man she married, of course. (Flint 
smi/es. Marjorie looks off, c.) Oh ! There's Georgie 
dancing with that horrid blonde ! Excuse me, please. I 
forgot to tell him something, and it's dreadfully important ! 

(^Exit, c. Flint ^<?<?5 up, r., to look after her. Is met 
by Genevieve, who enters, r.) 

Genevieve. Why, how do you do, Mr. Flint ? 

(Shakes hands with him.') 

Flint. Well ! This is a surprise ! Hunting alone, are 
you? 

Genevieve. Oh, there are some other newspaper peo- 
ple here. We are tucked off in a side room by ourselves. I 
suppose they thought we might contaminate tlie other guests. 

Flint. Must have been some mistake. Mrs. Lawrence 
will be very sorry when she hears about it. Have you been 
through the rooms ? 

Genevieve. No. I haven't been anywhere. 

Flint. Then let me escort you to the drawing-room. 
Mrs. Lawrence is 

Genevieve. She's always sure to be near where you are, 
Mr. Flint. I feel as if I had no right to appropriate you. 

Flint {confused). I certainly do admire Mrs. Law- 
rence, but that doesn't deter me {looking intently at Gene- 
vieve) from admiring others. 

Genevieve. Oh, if you're going to pay compliments, I 
shall certainly have to stick to you. 

{Takes Flint's ar7n and grandly swishes out, c, with him.) 

(^Enter Mrs. P. afid Landon, r.) 



THE CONGRESSMAN I 3 

Landon (^perceiving Genevieve ajid Flint). That 
young woman will get on in the world, all right. If she 
keeps her present nerve, she'll become a notorious lobbyist, 
with a half-million in the bank in a few years. 

Mrs. p. There's certainly nothing slow about her. 

incomes down, r.) 
{Enter Arthur, l.) 

Landon. Good-evening, Congressman. 

Arthur (shaking hands with Landon). Oh, hello, 
Landon. I'm mighty glad you're here ! (Perceives Mrs. P.) 
Why ! Bless my soul ! Mrs. Peterson I I'm delighted to 
see you ! ( Comes dow7i, l., and shakes hands with Mrs. P.) 

Mus. P. Thank you, sir. 

Landon {coming down, R.). Great night for you, 
Congressman, 

Arthur. For Mrs. Lawrence, you mean. This is her 
blow-out. 

Mks. p. She is looking beautiful to-night, Mr. Law- 
rence. 

Arthur. My dear lady, between you and me, she's the 
prettiest woman in Washington. But you mustn't put that 
in the paper. 

Mrs. p. I won't, but it's true, just the same. 

Arthur. But why are you people sticking in here? 
Why don't you circulate around ? 

Landon. We've been preparing our copy, but we 
haven't the all-important information about the dresses yet. 

(^Enter Marjorie, door c, followed by George.) 

Marjorie {stopping in surprise). Oh ! I didn't know 
any one was here. 

Arthur. You're just the person we're looking for. {To 
Mrs. p.) Mrs. Peterson, this is Marjorie MacDonald, my 
wife's niece. (Marjorie comes doivn c.) She'll take you 
through the rooms. She knows all about handsome gowns. 
It's all she thinks about. 

(George shakes hands 7vith and appears to converse aside 
with Landon, at l.) 

Marjorie {to Mrs. P.). Oh, I must show you Mrs. 
Senator Drew's gown before she leaves. It's simply gor- 



14 THE CONGRESSMAN 

geous ! (^Grasps George's arm and prese?tts him to 
Mks. p.) This is Mr. Melville— Mr. George Melville. 
He's a very imporiant young man. He's my uncle's sec- 
retary. Think of that ! (^To George.) You may come, 
too, infant ! You need to learn something about gowns. 

(^Takes Mrs. P.'s arm and goes up, r.) 

Landon. I'll rely on you, Mrs. Peterson. 

Marjorie. We'll be in the conservatory in twenty min- 
utes with yards of description. Oh, this is rich ! I always 
did want to be a newspaper woman. 

{Exit, c., artn in arm with Mrs. V., followed l^yGKORO'E.) 

Landon {to Arthur). This is a good chance forme to 
ask you something, sir. 

Arthur. All right. Fire away. 

Landon. What I am going to ask may seem somewhat 
like a violation of hospitality. 

Arthur. My dear fellow, there's no such thing as a 
violation of hospitality in the case of a man in public life. 

Landon. Well, it's simply this: — We want to deny the 
story about you that is going all over Washington. I hap- 
pen to know of at least three papers that have it and con- 
template using it. 

Arthur. What story? 

Landon. Why, that you are in on the Consolidation 
railroad deal. 

Arthur. Oh, that? {Lai/ghs.) Why, they've been 
saying that about me for over five years — ever since I en- 
tered Congress. In fact, there has hardly been a big po- 
litical steal that I haven't been accused of being in. 

Landon. But, Congressman, this newspaper syndicate 
is i)retty strong. 

Arthur. I don't care a snap of my finger for them. 

Landon {disappointed). Then you won't permit me 
to deny the story for you? 

Arthur {evasively). Landon, I know you mean all 
right, and I know you'd like to do me a good turn. Your 
paper has been a mighty good friend to me. You stood by 
me when I had almost no other friend on the independent 
press ; in fact, no friends. 

Landon. But, if you'll only let us show that there is 
nothing in the story 



THE CONGRESSMAN I5 

Arthur. No, not one word ! I discovered, before I'd 
been in public life three months, it was simply a waste of 
time to deny campaign stories. When a man goes into 
politics, he makes himself tlie target of all the blackguards 
in the country. 

Landon. But, Congressman, just a word from you 
would be enough. 

Arthur. No. I'm an older man than you, Landon, 
and 1 know what I'm talking about. I care so little about 
this particular story, that 1 made a pomt of getting Frede- 
rick Flint to come here to-night. He's the man, you know, 
who's supposed to be at the bottom of that railroad scandal. 

Landon. There's not another man in your position 
who'd dare to take the bull by the horns like that. 

Arthur. I can assure you, it's the only way of treating 
the '' bull." 

Landon. I'm glad to have had this little talk with you, 
Congressman. (^Exteiids his hand?) 

Arthur {taking Landon's hand). Look in on me at 
the House to-morrow \ I may have something for you. 

{Goes np, c.) 

Landon. Thank you, sir, I will. 

(^Exit, R. Arthur looks after him a moment, then comes 
doiv?i and sits on sofa, L., ivith a gesture of weariness, al- 
most despair. ) 

{Enter Flint, c. He comes down.) 

Flint, Oh, here you are ! I've been trying all the 
evening to get a chance to speak to you. {Notices 
Arthur's languid man?ier.) Anything the matter? 

Arthur. Yes. I've just been having a heart-to-heart 
talk with Landon, the correspondent. He says the news- 
papers are getting ready to jump on me. 

Flint. About what ? {Sits, -r. c.) 

Arthur. About our precious railroad business, of 
course. 

Flint. They can't hurt you. 

Arthur. I'm not so sure. Some of those papers in ihe 
syndicate have great inflnence with the masses. They're 
not like the small fry that have been knifing me lately. 

Flint. But, my dear fellow, what can they say ? 



l6 THE CONGRESSMAN 

Akthur. They can say what all Washington is saying. 
'Ihey can say that I've taken money to push that bill through 
the House. 'I'hey can queer my reelection. 

Flint. Taking money? That's a very disagreeable ex- 
pression. It isn't professional. But, anyhow, why shouldn't 
you? 

Arthur. Why shouldn't I what ? 

Flint. Why shouldn't you take money for the work 
you've done? You have earned it, haven't you? 

Arthur {rising). Then why should 1 lie about it every 
time the subject is mentioned? Why should 1 try to bam- 
boozle that decent young correspondent? He believes in 
me. He respects me as an honest man, a statesman and a 
patriot. He fancies that 1 think of nothing — work for noth- 
ing, and care for nothing but the welfare of the people who 
elected me. 

Flint {cynically'). He must be an awful ass. 

Arthur. Yes? Say, Flint, have you ever believed in 
any one in your life? 

Flint. Oh, yes — in you, for example. I believed in you 
the first time I saw you. 1 knew that you were bound to 
rise. 

Arthur. And that was why you helped me? 

Flint. Certainly. 

Arthur. You knew that some time I'd be useful to 
you? 

Flint. You're brutal now, Lawrence. 

Arthur. Perhaps I am. 

Flint. I am surprised that you should refer in that way 
to any service, however slight. 

Arthur. But you must admit that the payment has been 
rather hard. 

Flint. Most people wouldn't think so. When you came 
to me, five years ago, you were on the verge of bankruptcy, 
and you hadn't even begun to make a reputation — and now 
see what you are ! You've made a big name ! You're a 
power ! You have all the swells in Washington at your re- 
ce[)tions ! If you had gone under, five years ago, you never 
could have retrieved yourself. You know that as well as 
I do. 

Arthur. And how much satisfaction do you suppose my 
success has given me? Since I began to prosper here, I 
haven't had one really happy moment. 



THE CONGRESSMAN I7 

Flint {expostulating'). Tut, tut ! 

Arthur. You don't believe that? 

Flint. Of course 1 don't. You've got a fit of the blues, 
that's all. That reporter fellow has hurt your feelings. 
That's your only fault, Lawrence, — you're too sensitive. 
You want to have everybody's good opinion. 

Arthur. If 1 only had my own. 

Flint. Nonsense ! By helping to put that bill through 
the House, you're doing the country a thousand times more 
good than you ever accomplished through those reform 
schemes of yours. You're not practical enough, Lawrence. 
Solid facts are good enough for me. 

Arthur {sarcastically). I've observed that. 

Flint. But I'll tell you what you can do, since that 
conscience of yours is bothering you so much — why don't 
you vote against the bill? 

Arthur. How vote against it? 

Flint. Simply vote. 

Arthur. After all the hard work I've done for it? 

Flint. Who's to know about that? If you like, you 
can get up in the House and explain why you've changed 
your mind. 

Arthur. Speak against it, too? 

Flint. Why not? That will turn the tables on the pa- 
pers that have been attacking you. It will make you seem 
like a martyr, too. It'll be worth thousands of votes to you. 

Arthur. No, thank you. I may have done peculiar 
things in my time, but I certainly couldn't permit myself to 
degenerate into a sniveling hvpocrite ! 

Flint. It's a game that Drew has worked over and over 
again in the Senate. It doesn't seem to hurt him. He's 
one of the most popular men in the country — and the big- 
gest fraud. {LaugJis.) 

Arthur {suddetily confronting Flint). Flint ! 

Flint {surprised). Well? 

Arthur. I want to come to an understanding with you. 

Flint. I thought 5'ou did that years ago. 

Arthur. I'll stand by you in this railroad business until 
this bill goes through. I'll vote for it — because I've 
pledged myself to do so, and I'll accept the consequences, 
likt^ a man ! 

Flint. Oh ! I thought you were a little nervous about 
your election, that's all. 



l8 THE CONGRESSMAN 

Arthur. I have lied so constantly, I suppose I can go 
on lying until the deal goes through. But, reiiiember one 
thing ! It's the last official work you need expect me to do 
for you. Officially, Flint, we're quits. In the future, I 
proi)ose to keep my hands free and unsullied. 

Flint. My dear fellow (^placi?i^ hafid 07i Arthur's 
shoulder), you've been a brick. Stand by me till the bill 
goes through. That's all we expect — only don't try to be 
loo ideal. Ideals are very pretty, but if the government 
were run by ideals, it wouldn't last six months. Legislation 
is a business, and the shrewdest men are going to get the 
biggest returns. Just think of all the men who have been 
sent back home from Washington simply because they've 
been overzealous ! But this won't do — we'll be missed from 
the ballroom, and that will arouse suspicion. I'll see you 
to-morrow in the cloak-room. Meanwhile, do take some 
rest. You've been working too hard, and it's got on your 
nerves. 

(^Exit, smiling, c.) 

Arthur. " Sent back home for being overzealous " ? I 
wonder if that sentiment veils a threat? 

{E?iter Marjorie, c.) 

Marjorie. Say ! Are you aware that some of your 
guests are looking for you ? 

(^Enter George, c.) 

George {to Arthur). The Speaker of the House is 
moping in the drawing-room, sir. He looks as if he wanted 
to eat somebody's head off. 

Arthur {smiling). He's longing for his shirt-sleeves 
and a long, black cigar. I must look him up and jolly him 
along a bit. 

{^Exit, c.) 

{Dance music heard, off c.) 

Marjorie. Just listen to that music, will you ? {Strikes 
an attitude for dancing.) Want to try? 
George. Sure ! 

{Dances with Marjorie, hut clumsily brushes against the 
furniture.) 



THE CONGRESSMAN I9 

Marjorie {pushing George from her). Gracious ! 
You haveu't improved a bit ! See ! Stupid ! How easy it 
is when you've learned to be nimble on your feet. 

{Does a solo dance — keeping time to the music.) 
{Enter Graham MacDonald, c.) 

Graham. Marjorie ! What on earth are you doing ? 

Makjorie {stopping siidde7ily doivn l., considerably out 
of breath). Oh! Is that you, dad? I'm just practicing 
" being in society." How do you like it? {To George.) 
Oh, you haven't been introduced to dad, have you? {To 
Gkaham.) Well, this is *Mt," dad— Mr. Melville— Mr. 
George Melville. 

Graham {shaking hands with George, down r.). How 
do you do, sir? 

Marjorie. Mr. Melville is the young man I've been 
writing you about — the one that's been so attentive to me 
this winter. Here ! Come and let me fix that tie of yours. 
It's flirting with your ear. {Arranges Graham's tie and pats 
him on the back.) There ! That is better. Now they'd 
never suspect that you came from the country. 

Graham (/(:7 George). You mustn't mind her. We just 
let her talk to keep her out of worse mischief. 

Marjorie {to George). Well, you have been paying me 
attentions, haven't you, George? 

George {laughing). Oh, yes — I've been giving Miss 
Marjorie all my spare time. 

Graham. Too bad you couldn't find better use for it. 
{To Marjorie.) Well, sis, I'm going to turn in. I've had 
enough of this rabble. I suppose you're going to stay up 
till the *' last dog is hung " ? 

Marjorie. Of course I shall. How could they get 
along without me? 

Graham. Well, don't stay up too late. As for me, I 
simply can't stand it any longer. I've rubbed up against 
politicians enough to make me hate my country. To hear 
'em talk, you'd think the Government had been invented 
just to support their families. It's every man for himself 
and the ''old Nick" for 'em all. 

George. There certainly is a lot of wire-pulling going 
on here. 

Graham. Wire-pulling ? That is putting it altogether 



20 THE CONGRESSMAN 

too mildly. Why, there was a fellow in the other room that 
mistook me for the Secretary of Slate, and buttonholed n\e. 
He wants to be Minister to Egypt ! Minister to Egypt ! 
Why, I wouldn't give him a job as errand boy in my fac- 
tory ! 

Mapjorie {huo^gin^ Graham). Poor old dad ! He 
has such a hard time whenever he comes to Washington. 
Don't you, dad ? 

Graham. Every fellow I talk to wants me to use my 
influence for a job of some sort. Talk about politicians 
serving the country ! If 1 had the power, I'd put the whole 
gang in the lock-up ! 

Marjorie. My ! but you're cross to-night, dad. You'd 
better go on to bed. Think how I feel, having you talk 
like that before this rising young politician. 

Graham {to George). Well, sir, if you intend to 
make a politician of yourself, I'm mighty sorry for you. 

Marjorie {to Graham). You'd better go and get 
your ** beauty sleep." First thing you know, you'll be say- 
ing something you'll be sorry for. 

Graham. Huh ! I never was sorry yet for expressing 
my honest opinion. {To George.) Good-night, sir. 

George. Good-night, sir. 

Graham {to Marjorie). Good-night, sis. 

{Kisses Marjorie, and exit, c.) 

Marjorie. Isn't he the dandy dad? Oh, you needn't 
be afraid of him. I can just wind him around my finger — 
except — oh, I know when to let him alone. Sometimes he's 
dangerous ! {Looks off, c.) Oh ! here comes auntie and 
that horrid Mr. Flint, What do you suppose would hap- 
pen if Mr. Flint lost his everlasting smile? Do you think 
there would be anything left ? 

{Enter Gertrude and Flint, c.) 

Gertrude, Well, Marjie, enjoying yourself? 

{Sits, L., and fans herself as if overheated from dancing.') ^ 

Marjorie. I should say I was ! I'm having the time 
of my life ! 



THE CONGRESSMAN 21 

Flint. I trust we aren't interrupting a tete-a-tete. 

George {carelessly). Oh, no, not at all. 

Marjorie {to George). Let's go to the ballroom. I'll 
bet there are three men looking for me right now. 

George {to Gertrude). Can I do anything for you, 
Mrs. Lawrence ? 

Gertrude. Just have a good time, that's all. 

Marjorie. Georgie's always trying to earn his salary. 
I never knew any one who worried so much about it. 

{Takes his ar^n and runs hifn off, c.) 

Flint {sitting on sofa by Gertrude). He's an excep- 
tion here in Washington, then, isn't he? 

Gertrude. He's a good, conscientious boy. I some- 
times wonder if this Washington life won't harm him, 

Flint. There is so much wickedness here, do you mean ? 

Gertrude. Well — wasting of time. 

Flint. Don't you think you are — well, just a little too 
scrupulous? 

Gertrude. That is what Mr. Lawrence is always saying. 
You aren't going to blame me, too, are- you? 

Flint. 1 should be the last man in the world to blame 
you for anything, Mrs. Lawrence. 1 admire you too much 
as you are. 

Gertrude {curiously'). Aren't we complimentary to- 
night I Do you often make pretty little speeches like that? 

Flint. No. I'm not much of a hand at paying com- 
pliments. {Pauses deliberately.) Besides, it would be very 
hard to pay compliments to a woman like you. Do you 
know why? Because you are one of the few women I've 
met whom I really respect. I pay you the compliment of 
telling you nothing but the truth. 

Gertrude {nervously). I believe that is the best com- 
pliment any woman could expect. 

Flint. But there are some things I have never quite 
dared to tell you. I've never dared, because — well, perhaps 
they would be too interesting. There are some things, you 
know, that it is extremely difficult for a man to explain to a 
woman — especially to a woman like you. 

Gertrude {suspiciously). They are usually things better 
left unsaid, are they not? 

Flint. Perhaps. But sometimes it is almost as hard 



22 THE CONGRESSMAN 

not to say them. It isn't always necessary to put them into 
words, you know. They say themselves in a thousand 
ways — in a look, a tone of the voice, in the lightest touch 
of the hand. 

Gertrude {feigning amusement'). You are in a very 
sentimental mood to-night, aren't you, Mr. Flint ? {Laughs.) 
1 really am prepared to receive all kinds of confidences. 

Flint. 1 was going to tell you something — 1 think 1 will 
tell you. I — I'm in love. 

Gertrude {amused). Well ! This is news. 

Flint. I'm in love with the most fascinating woman in 
Washington. 

Gertrude (JaugJiing). We all know who that is. But 
aren't you afraid of the Senator ? They say he's a wonderful 
shot. 

Flint. You are poking fun at me now, aren't you ? 

Gertrude. It is very hard to take you seriously some- 
times, Mr. Flint. 

Flint. I suppose you mean to infer that you aren't quite 
able to make me out ? 

Gertrude. Possibly. Though I must confess that I 
haven't tried very hard. 

Flint. Can it be that you don't understand me? 

Gertrude (jineasiiy). I really think I should return to 
the drawing-room. You must tell me these things some 
other time. {Rises.) 

Flint {rising and detaining her). Just a moment more. 
(Gertrude sits.) I may not have another chance to see 
you alone to-night. There is something 1 must say to you 
now. 

Gertrude {surprised). Now ? 

Flint. I must tell you what it means to me to be near you. 

{Approaches her.) 

Gertrude {rising). I don't understand you. 
Fjjnt. Do you mean to say that you haven't understood 
all along how I felt toward you? 

{Places his hand on her arm.) 

Gertrude. Kindly remove your hand from my arm. 
Flint {persiste?itiy retaining his position). Why don't 
you answer ? 



THE CONGRESSMAN 23 

Gertrude {withdrawing her arm). Because, as I have 
tol<l you before, there are some things that are better left 
unspoken. 

Flint. Then you have known ? 

Gertrude. I have suspected. 

Flint. Then why have you permitted me to come here? 

Gertrude [with dignity). Because I thought you would 
never dare to speak to me as you have done, and, if you 
continue in the same strain, I shall call my husband. Before 
that becomes necessary, I must ask you to leave. 

Flint. Thank you, but I prefer to stay. (Gertrude 
goes to table, c. , and starts to ring bell. Flint rises ; with 
authority.) Don't touch that bell ! Now, you won't call 
the servants, and you won't tell your husband anything 
about this conversation. In the first place, your servants 
are really my servants ! 

Gertrude. What ! 

Flint. They are paid with my money. 

Gertrude. How contemptible of you ! 

Flint. Well, perhaps. It all depends on the point of 
view. You don't consider your husband contemptible, and 
yet lie is worse than I am. I don't pretend to be any better 
than 1 am. 

Gertrude. I'll permit you to say these things to his 
face. [Starts up c. ) 

Flint (^standing betiveen her and door, c). If you make 
a scene here, Mrs. Lawrence, you'll simply disgrace your- 
self and you'll ruin your husband. He has been in my pay 
ever since he came to Washington. 

Gertrude. In your pay ! 

Flint. Oh, there are prettier ways to say it, but that's 
what it comes to. Why, this one reception to-night has 
cost more than half his legitimate yearly salary. All the 
stories circulating about him are true — only they're not half 
as bad as I could tell. If the whole truth were known he'd 
be branded as a thief. 

Gertrude. Sir, I will not 

Flint {vehemently'). I tell you — a thief, and a hypo- 
crite. But for me he'd be a petty country lawyer in the 
backwoods. I gave him his chance. I've made him what 
he is. I've favored him more than any one else for your 
sake, because I loved you. He must have known that, and 
he must have been playing on the knowledge. 



24 THE CONGRESSMAN 

Gertrude. No, no ! It's not true ! 

{Nearly fainting, and clinging to back of chair to keep from 
falling.) 

Flint {with mock politeness). Now, shall I ring for 
your husband ? 



QUICK CURTAIN 



ACT II 

SCENE. — Interior backing, fourth grooves. Handsome 
interior, boxed in third grooves. Doors, up c. and at l. 
Large library table, C, strewn with books, maoazines 
and papers. Desk, up R., with writing ??iaterials, two 
large scrap-books, telephone, and desk chair. Chair, at 
table, c, facing audience. Lump of ore on table. Chairs, 
K. and L., and if possible a general '■^ mission''^ ^ff^ct, to 
differ from Act I. Folding screefi, up l. 

{Discovered, George, at desk, r., ivriting, with tivo large 
scrap-books in frotit of him, as if 7naking excerpts from 
them. Enter Marjorie, l.) 

Marjorie. Good -morning, Mr. Secretary. 

George. Good-morning, Marjorie. I — I hope you're 
well this morning. {Continues writing.') 

Marjorie. My ! But we are effusive this morning ! 
Aren't you afraid it'll hurt you to be so glad to see me? 

George {writing). I am very glad to see you, but with 
this fight on for the renominalion — you see 

Marjorie. But I don't see. 

George. Mr. Lawrence is waiting for these notes — he's 
up to his neck — and — you know — well, I'm his secretary 

Marjorie. You've told me that same thing every day 
since we came here from Washington. According to you, 
Uncle Arthur won't have any neck left if he keeps on ! 
That's all you can say {imitating George), *' Mr. Lawrence 
is up to his neck and I'm his secretary." You certainly 
have a very limited vocabulary. 

George. A man doesn't need to know as many words 
as a woman. 

Marjorie. AVell, I guess I'll go where my conversation 
will be appreciated. At any rate I'll go where people aren't 
afraid to smile once in a while. So there, now ! 

{Exit, L.) 

George {rising, book in hand, callifig after her). Mar- 
jorie 1 

\ 



26 THE CONGRESSMAN 

(^Angrily throws scrap-book on floor, the?i stoops to pick 
it up.) 

(^Enter Gertrude, r. c.) 

Gertrude. Good- morning, George. 

George {pickino^ up book). Good-morning, Mrs. Law- 
rence. (^Writes furiously.) 

Gertrude. You seem to be busy this morning. 

George {confused). Yes, ma'am. I'm making notes 
Mr. Lawrence wants sent over to Chairman Green at the 
convention. He's waiting for them. 

Gertrude {curiously). What are those books? 

George. One contains Mr. Lawrence's speeches — the 
other the newspaper cHppings. 

Gertrude. Ah ! 

George {looking at watch). Whew ! It's after ten 
already. 

Gertrude. Don't let me detain you. Will you hand 
me that scrap-book, please? 

George. Which one? 

Gertrude. The one with the press notices. 

George. This is it. {Hands her book.) I really shall 
have to hurry. Will you excuse me? 

Gertrude, By all means. 

George. Good-morning, Mrs. Lawrence. 

{Bows and exit, up c.) 

Gertrude. Good -morning. 

{She opens book and looks listlessly at its pages, turnifig 
them sloivly. Suddenly she looks i}itently at a page, and 
sinks into a chair at L. of table, reading and agitated at 
-what she reads.) 

Arthur {calling, outside). Gertrude ! (Gertrude rises 
hastily, her finger in the book to hold the place. F.nter 
Arthur, c.) Oh, here you are. Have you seen anything 
of George? He was to get me some memoranda. 

Gertrude. He left here a few moments ago. 

Arthur. Oh, very well. But what are you doing? 

{Puts hat on table.) 



I 



THE CONGRESSMAN 2/ 

Gertrude. I've been looking over your scrap-book. 
{Places scrap-book open on table, c, and sits, l. ) 

Arthur. Couldn't you find anything more interesting? 
(^Throws hat on table and sits, r. of table.) We've been 
having a great fight to-day. There's going to be some 
great *' doings " before the convention is over. By the way, 
did you read the notice of our reception ? That last one 
was a great send-off. 

Gertrude. 1 was just looking at it. Would — would 
you mind reading it to me, Arthur? 

Arthur {looking at her, puzzled, but picking up book). 
Why, certainly, if you wish. Let's see — here we are. 
(Reads.) " Last night, in Washington, Congressman Arthur 
Lawrence gave a magnificent ball to celebrate the opening 
of his wQw home. It is said that the house alone cost twenty- 
five thousand dollars. It is furnished in a style that only a 
very rich man could afford. Six years ago Congressman 
Lawrence went to Washington without a dollar, to devote 
himself to political affairs, practically abandoning his grow- 
ing law practice. He has apparently found politics profit- 
able." {He laughs mirthlessly, and throws book on table.) 
Isn't that just like them, the vultures ! {Looks at her.) 
Look here, Gertrude, you aren't worrying over that petty 
mud-throwing, are you ? 

Gertrude. I — I don't know. They say such terrible 
things about you. 

Arthur. They do about every public man, dear. 
That's modern journalism. 

Gertrude [doubtfully). I know. I want to ask you 
something, Arthur. 

Arthur. Yes? 

Gertrude. I've been wondering if we aren't living 
rather extravagantly. 

Arthur. Oh, is that all? No need to worry about 
that. 

Gertrude. Are you sure ? 

Arthur. Why, of course. Why do you ask ? 

Gertrude {intently). How much do you make in a 
year ? 

Arthur. How much do I make? Why — a 

Gertrude. What was your income last year? Please 
tell me. I have a reason for asking. 



28 THE CONGRESSMAN 

Arthur (^picking up lump of ore, and handling if). To 
tell the truth, 1 don't believe I know myself. 

Gertrude. Can't you estimate ? 

Arthur. I suppose 1 could, but what do you want to 
know for? 

Gertrude. I think I ought to know. 

Arthur. Don't you have everything you want? 

Gertrude. Yes. 

Arthur. Have I stinted you in anything? 

Gertrude. No, you haven't. No woman ever had a 
more generous husband. 

Arthur {laughing). Then there's nothing more to be 
said — since I'm such a paragon. 

Gertrude. But I want to know — really. 

Arthur. J. told you — I don't know myself. 

Gertrude. But 1 am serious about this. Now, your 
salary is seventy-five hundred, isn't it? 

Arthur. Yes. 

Gertrude. And the property father left me — how much 
does that bring in ? 

Arthur. Last year it brought in only two thousand. 

Gertrude. That makes nme thousand, five hundred. 

Arthur. But 1 never touch your money. I add it to 
the principal. 

Gertrude. So we have only seven thousand, five hun- 
dred a year to live on ? 

Arthur. No, no ! Much more than that. 

Gertrude. That last reception we gave must have cost 
at least eighteen hundred dollars. 

Arthur. Well, I guess we're good for it. 

{Puts ore on table.') 

Gertrude. That's what I can't understand. How are 
we good for it ? 

Arthur {standing behind her chair with his arm around 
her neck). My dear child, that isn't a nice way to speak 
to me. 

Gertrude. Arthur, I have a reason for asking these 
questions, and I want you to give me a direct answer. 

Arthur {re?fiovi?ig his arm). I think you must be ill, 
dear. 

Gertrude. I shall be, unless you tell me the truth. 
{Rises.) 



THE CONGRESSMAN 29 

Arthur {walking r. and turning). Do you mean that 
you want to know whether 1 am an honest man or not? 

Gertrude. 1 have never questioned your honesty. 

Arthur. Well, if you must know — last year I must have 
spent nearly thirty thousand dollars, it was all 1 had. At 
the end of the year I was five thousand in debt. That has 
since been paid. 

Gertrude. Where did you get that money ? 

Arthur. That is a cruel question for a wife to ask her 
husband. 

Gertrude. Not when she knows he will be able to an- 
swer it. 

Akthur. Well, I — I — made it mostly through my law 
practice. 

Gertrude. But you said the other day that since you 
went to Washington you had been forced to give up your 
practice. 

Arthur. So I have — very largely — almost entirely, in 
fact. But there are still some interests that 1 have to look 
out for. 

Gertrude. Such as what? {^Comes down q.~) 

Arthur. Well, there's the — there are some railroad in- 
terests 

Gertrude. Do you mean the railroad that Mr. Flint is 
concerned in ? 

Arthur. Why, yes. You know perfectly well I've been 
associated with that railroad for years, in one way or another. 

(^Comes down r.) 

Gertrude. That's the road that has received so many 
favors from the government, isn't it? 

Arthur. Oh, that's mere gossip. There's no sucii 
thing. 

Gertrude {looking him square in the eyes). Arthur, 
what do you do for that railroad ? 

Arthur {flashing up). You're going too far, Gertrude. 

Gertrude. 1 have a right to ask that question. You 
acknowledge that you receive thousands of dollars a year 
from that railroad — five times as much as your salary. 

Arthur {angry). I made no such acknowledgment. 

Gertrude. But you know it is true — you cannot 
deny it. 



3© THE CONGRESSMAN 

Arthur. I won't take the trouble to deny it, since you 
evidently want to believe it. 

Gertrude. And you know you don't give the road an 
hour a day of your time. 

Arthur. My dear girl, lawyers are not paid by the hour, 
like seamstresses. 

Gertrude. And you told me the railroad's regular at- 
torney is Mr. Flint. 

Arthur {tryifig to laugh it off). Well, Flint does all the 
dirly work. 

Gertrude. And what do you do? 

Arthur. One minute, Gertrude. I warn you that you 
are interfering with matters that do not concern you — that 
you can't even comprehend. You are playing with fire, 
Gertrude. You'd better stop now before it is too late. 

Gertrude (^persisting'). What do you do for that com- 
pany ? 

Arthur [decisive ly). Very well — if I must tell it — I 
simply look after its interests in the House. It's perfectly 
legitimate. There are plenty of men who do the same thing 
for other corporations — men in big positions. 

Gertrude. Oh, Arthur ! 

{She drops into chair r. of table. Bows her head in her 
hafids and sobs.) 

[Enter Henderson, c.) 

Henderson. Mr. Melville has just telephoned, sir. He 
says the convention is on, sir, and he wants to speak to you 
at once, sir. He's holding the wire, sir. 

Arthur. Tell him I'll be right down. 

Henderson. All right, sir. Yes, sir. 

[Exit, c.) 

Arthur {going to Gertrude). Gertrude ! I must step 
over to the hall immediately — my renomination is in doubt 
— our very position in society is in jeopardy — Gertrude ! 
Forget this scene — try to be yourself once more 

Gertrude {half raisin^; her head). Go — now ! 

Arthur. Good-bye, dear ! I'll hurry back as soon as 
I can. Believe trie, you're making mountains of mole hills. 

{Raises her head and kisses her on forehead, takes hat from 
table and exit, hastily, c.) 



THE CONGRESSMAN 3 1 

Gertrude {slowly rising, looking after Arthur, going 
L. sadly y pausing at door). Oh, Arthur ! 

{Sobs and exit, L.) 

(Enter Gei^eniewe, followed by Henderson, c.) 

Henderson. He's not at home, ma'am. He's at the 
convention, ma'am. 

Genevieve. Oh, well, Mrs. Lawrence will do, if I can- 
not see the Congressman. 

Henderson {bowing). Yes, ma'am. Whom shall I say, 
ma'am ? 

Genevieve. Miss McSorley — Genevieve McSorley of the 
daily " Argus." 

Henderson. Very well, ma'am. Have a seat, ma'am. 

{Exit, L.) 

(Genevieve boldly surveys the room, looking at papers on 
desk, and coming finally to scrap-book on table. Reads.) 

Genevieve {tapping open page of book). They're after 
him. Wait till 1 tell what 1 know. 

{Enter Flint, c.) 

Flint. Well ! 

{Starts back in surprise at seeing Genevieve.) 

Genevieve (-^^//^/z/^f/y). Why, Mr. FUnt ! This is really 
an unexpected pleasure ! 

Flint. What are you doing here? [Conies do7vnh.) I 
thought you were in Washington. 

Genevieve. Oh, not now. I called to see the Congress- 
man, as I suppose you have. Very popular man, isn't he? 

Flint. Yes. Is he at home ? 

Genevieve. No. I find he is out, so I intend to inter- 
view his wife instead. 

Flint. His wife ? 

{Enter Henderson, l.) 

Henderson {to Genevieve). Mrs. Lawrence is indis- 
posed, ma'am, and begs to be excused. (71? Flint.) The 
Congressman is at the convention, sir. 



32 THE CONGRESSMAN 

Flint. Very well. I'll see him there — but, on second 
thought — for fear that I might miss him, I wish you would 
ask him to 'plione me this afternoon at the Palace Hotel. 

Henderson. Very well, sir. I'll tell him, sir. 

[Exit J c.) 

Flint [hoiving to Genevieve). I wish you a very good- 
morning, Miss 

Genevieve {interrupting^. Why such haste, Mr. Flint? 
(Pouts.) Can't you spare poor me a minute of your valua- 
able time ? 

Flint {bowing and looking at watch). Ten, if you like. 

Genevieve (coaxingly). 1 want you to do something for 
me. {Sits r. of table. ) 

Flint {with mock politeness). I shall be only too glad. 

{Sits L. of table.) 

Genevieve. I should like to offer you my services. 

Flint {suspiciously). What do you mean ? 

Genevieve. I want you to give me something to do — a 
slight share in some of your enterprises — I can be of use to 
you. 

Flint. But what about your own work — your newspa- 
per ? 

Genevieve. What does that amount to? Why, it hardly 
pays for my frocks. And, to tell you the truth, I'm not at all 
clever at it. My editor has to rewrite nearly everything I 
turn in. By nature I'm a business woman. Society re- 
porting bores me. I should like something more important 
— in Washington. You see, I'm frank. 

Flint. Since you're so frank, perhaps you'll tell me just 
what you have in mind. 

Genevieve. I think you know perfectly well what I mean. 
I want you to let me in on some of your schemes. 

Flint {dryly). I haven't any schemes of that sort. 

Genevieve. How about your interest in railroad legis- 
lation ? 

Flint. It is true that I am employed by a railroad, but, 
as you are not a lawyer, I don't see how you could help me. 

Genevieve. Oh, stop beating about the hush ! Every- 
body knows what you do for that railroad. Everybody 
knows that last year you distributed more than a hun- 



THE CONGRESSMAN 33 

dred thousand dollars for it, and everybody knows that Con- 
gressman Lawrence gets some of it. But everybody doesn't 
know one other fact that 1 know. 

Flint. And what may that be? 

Genevieve {eyeing him sarcastically). If I show not 
only that you have bribed Congressman Lawrence, but have 
made love to his wife, that would be a dreadful scandal, 
wouldn't it? 

Flint {with forced indifference'), I don't know what you 
are talking about. 

Genevieve [with assurance). I saw something at that 
reception in Washington, Mr. Flint. 

Flint {sternly). You followed me about, then? 

Genevieve. Oh, dear, no — nothing so vulgar as that. 
It was all the merest chance. 1 happened to be in the room 
assigned to the press representatives — it adjoins the lounging- 
room — I saw you threaten Mrs. Lawrence — there was no 
neetl of hearing all you said. It was as plain as A B C. 
Now what do you propose to do about it ? 

Flint. Do you realize that if you were to start a story 
of that sort no one would believe you? 

Genevieve. Then you wish me to publish the article? 

Fllnt. Do as you please about that. It won't be the 
first libel that has been printed about me. 

Genevieve. How about Mrs. Lawrence's reputation ? 

Flint, if the reputation of such a lady were assailed by 
you, the general public would probably consider the source, 
and let it go at that. 

Genevieve. Perhaps you would prefer that I should in- 
form Congressman Lawrence of what I saw. That would 
be less public. 

Flint. Tell him, and get turned out of the house for 
your trouble. Besides, Mrs. Lawrence would deny the 
story. Then where would you be ? No, my dear young 
lady, you've made a false start. {Rises.) You'll have to 
try your game on a younger hand. I've been in politics too 
long to be afraid of a woman like you. If I were you, I'd 
stick to newspaper work. It will undoubtedly pay you best 
in the end. Good-morning, Miss McSorley. 

(^Bows politely and exit, c.) 
Genevieve {astounded ; watching Flint exit^ rising 



34 



THE CONGRESSMAN 



and stamp'uig her foot in anger). The vicious beast ! And 
he has tlie presumption to talk Uke that to me ? 

{^Enier Henderson, c.) 

Henderson. Did you call, ma'am ? 

Genevieve. No, I didn't call, and, what's more, I want 
to get out of here as quick as 1 can. I'll make somebody 
sweat for this ! You can just bet your sweet lite on that ! 

{Rushes out door, c.) 

Henderson {eyei?ig her suspiciously). Something must 
have happened to displease the lady. 

{^Enter Gertrude, l.) 

Gertrude. Henderson. 

Henderson {turnirig to i.., quick/y). Yes, ma'am. 
Gertrude. Did Mr. Lawrence go to the caucus? 
Henderson. Yes, ma'am. But 1 just heard some one 
come in. I'll see if he has returned, ma'am. 

{Exit, c.) 

Gertrude {taking scrap-book from table, c, and placing 
it on desk, r.). Oh, if 1 only hadn't looked in that book ! 

{Efiter Henderson, c.) 

Henderson. It wasn't Mr. Lawrence, ma'am. It was 
Mr. Landon. He asked after your health, ma'am. Shall I 
show him in ? 

Gertrude {puzzled). Landon? Landon 

Henderson. The newspaper chap, ma'am. 

Gertrude. Oh, yes — how stupid of me ! Yes, you 
may ask him in. 

Henderson. Yes, ma'am. 

{Exit, c, a Jid reenter at once, usheringl^A-^TiOH, then exit.) 
(Gertrude ^^(fi- l. and sits.) 

Landon. Good-morning, Mrs. Lawrence. 

Gertrude (r/j-/;/^). Good-morning. I was surprised to 
learn that you were here in New York. {Stts.) Won't you 
sit down ? 



THE CONGRESSMAN 35 

Landon. Thank you. {Si'^s r.) I just came over to 
attend a meeting of our club — the Citizens' League, you 
know. 

Gertrude. Indeed ? 

Landon. We had an important meeting. We're getting 
after Peters — know him ? 

Gertrude. Slightly. He has been at our house to see 
Mr. Lawrence. 

Landon. I think we've got him where we want him, 
now. He's been pretty foxy, but we caught him " with the 
goods" in that big Subway grab. He engineered the whole 
game. He stung the city for at least a million — they say he 
pulled out a hundred thousand for himself — but it's going to 
queer him for good. 

Gertrude. Do you mean that you are going to — to put 
him in jail ? 

Landon {smiling at her i7inocence). Well — I don't know. 
But he will be prosecuted, and the whole thing will be aired, 
'i'he whole traction gang's in with him. Strange how hard 
it is to rouse public opinion. That is why we have so many 
rascals in public life. If I were going in for rascality, I'd 
surely become a politician. It's the safest and most profita- 
ble way of making money. Big returns and mighty little 
risk. 

Gertrude {inieasy). You surprise me, Mr. Landon. 
Landon. It's true, nevertheless. What I've seen, from 
my standpoint, made me so sick, I've several times been on 
the point of quitting the business. But the League is doing 
something. We have them scared now. 

Gertrude. Mr. Lawrence has often spoken to me about 
the immense influence of your League. 

Landon. I wish we could persuade him to join us. 
Then our men would get to understand him. They don't 
now. They think he's an out-and-out machine man. 
Gertrude. Indeed ? 

Landon. Of course that is all nonsense. I only wish 
we had more '•'■ machine men " like him. 

Gertrude. It is awfully good of you to say that. 
Landon. Well, I mean every word of it, and I guess I 
know him thoroughly, if any man does. But I must get 
back to the League headquarters. We have an important 
committee meeting at noon. Would you kindly inform the 
Congressman that I will call again, later in the day ? 



36 THE CONGRESSMAN 

Gertrude. I'll see that he receives your message the 
moment he returns. 

Landon. Thank you, Mrs. Lawrence. You should feel 
proud of a husband who has so conducted himself that he 
doesn't have to worry about being reelected. {Rises.) 

Gertrude {embarrassed^. Thank you. 

Landon. Good-morning, Mrs. Lawrence. 

{Bows and exit, c.) 

Gertrude. Good-morning, Mr. Landon. {Aside.) Oh, 
how 1 wish that he would not be reelected ! If we could 
only go back to where we started. {Sighs a?id exit, L.) 

{^Enter Marjorie, c.) 

Marjorie {at door, calling softly). Georgie ! Are you 
real angry? {Looks for him.) Why, he isn't here. I won- 
der if he is mad at me? Perhaps he's gone away. {Sta7nps 
her foot.) Oh, what a little idiot I was to quarrel with 
him ! 

{Hears some one coming, and dodges behind screen, up L.) 

{Enter Arthur, h., followed by Henderson.) 

Arthur {throiving his hat on table, c). If any callers 
come — take them into the reception room. 

Henderson. Yes, sir. Mr. Landon called, sir, and 
said he'd return later, sir. 

Arthur. Very well. 

Henderson. And — were you renominated, sir? 

Arthur. Too early yet, but I guess there's no doubt I 
shall be. 

Henderson. I'm glad — very glad, sir. {Goes towat d 
door, c, and retiir?is.) 1 forgot to tell you, sir. Mr. Flint 
'Called, sir. 

Arthur. Yes ? Where is he ? 

Henderson. At the Palace hotel, sir. 

Arthur. At a hotel? What did he go to a hotel for ? 
He always stays here when he comes to town. 

Henderson. I don't know, sir. He said would you 
kindly 'phone him this afternoon, sir ? 

Arthur. Strange. Did he say that any one was with 
him ? 

Henderson. No, sir. He only said he'd be at the 
hotel this afternoon and wait until he heard from you, sir. 



THE CONGRESSMAN 37 

Arthur. Tell Jolm to take tlie car down at once and 
bring Mr. Flint up here. Tell him to bring Mr. Flint's 
baggage, too, and say to Mr. Flint that there is a room all 
ready for him, as usual. 

Henderson. Yes, sir, I will, sir. 

(^Exiif c.) 

Arthur (asiJe). This is a funny time for Flint to stand 
on ceremony with me. 

(■S/Zi" a^ R. qf table. Takes papers fro?n pocket afid ex- 
amines them.') 

Marjorie {co7nin^ from behind scree?i). Ahem ! 
Arthur (not looking up). Oh, hello, Marjie ! 
Marjorie (disappointed). How did you know me? 

(Comes dozvn, l.) 

Arthur (playfully). I'm a good guesser. I have to 
be, in my business. 

Marjorie. Where is George? Has he gone? 

Arthur. Gone ! Where ? 

Marjorie. Oh, I don't know. I couldn't imagine what 
had become of him. Why, 1 haven't seen him for nearly 
an hour ! 

Arthur (in mock alarm). Why, that's perfectly dread- 
ful ! 

Marjorie. I should say as much. He was writing like 
mad. — He could hardly find time even to speak to me. — 
He said you were up to your neck. 

Arthur (cimused). Did he? 

Marjorie. I suspected he was making his will. 

Arthur. His will ? 

Marjorie. Yes. He looked desperate enough. I was 
afraid he might be going to have one of those brain-storms, 
or exaggerated egos. I suppose it's all because you make 
him work so hard. He's so delicate. 

Arthur. Boys generally are, at his age — especially when 
they're just out of college. 

Marjorie. I think you're just horrid to say such things 
about him, when he tries so hard to help you. 

Arthur. Well, he has a warm champion, at any rate. 
Look here. What's going on between you and George? 

Marjorie. Nothing — that is — why, nothing. 



38 THE CONGRESSMAN 

Arthur. Oh — nothing. Well, that nothing is getting 
very warm, it seems to me. Look here, Marjie. 1 have a 
bit of advice to offer you. 

Marjorie. Oh, 1 know you're going to tell me how 
foolish it is to get married. That's the way married people 
always talk. 

Arthur. No, I don't mean that. 

Marjorie. Well, then, I should wait until he gets rich, 
I suppose. No use of even considering that. If 1 did, I 
should be certain to die an old maid ! 

Arthur. No, I don't mean that, either. Just make him 
give up the foolish notion he has of going into politics. 

Marjorie. Oh, Uncle Art ! 

Arthur. George is a good, clean -hearted fellow. You 
don't want him to become cyni.cal and hypocritical and 
deceitful, do you? You don't want him to believe there's 
no such thing as unselfishness in the world — that when a 
man turns his hand for you he expects to be paid for it ten 
times over? 

Marjorie. Well ! What in the world is the matter 
with you ? 

Arthur {taking liunp of ore from table). Look here. 
Did you ever notice this ? 

Marjorie. Now, what? 

Arthur. Do you know what that is? 

Marjorie. Why, a lump of gold, I suppose. 

Arthur. Yes. It is "gold," but not the kind you 
think it is. It's ''Fool's Gold." 

Marjorie. " Fool's Gold " ? 

Arthur. Yes. It glistens like gold — it has something 
the color of gold — and, at a distance, even experts might be 
deceived by its appearance; but a close examination reveals 
the fact that it is not pure gold, but only common, every- 
day iron pyrites — valueless — a mere dross ! And many a 
miner has wasted his all in the accumulation of this very 
stone, only to find in the end that his work has been in vain ! 

Marjorie. Well ! 

Arthur. Well, so it is with politics: — the life is fasci- 
nating — it glitters from afar — it is cloaked in wealth, gaiety 
and abandon — but, if inspected at close range, it resolves 
itself into a hideous mass of slag — it won't bear inspection 
— compared to the nobler forms of life, it is a mere imita- 
tion — it is not the bona fide article — it is only ''Fool's 



THE CONGRESSMAN 39 

Gold." (^Places ore on table.') That is all. I won't preach 
any more. 

Marjorie {tea?'fully). What is the matter ? Isn't George 
a good secretary ? 

Arthur. Oh, yes, he's good enough. 

Marjorie. Then what are you mad at him about? Has 
he been making '* Fool's Gold " ? 

Arthur (^laughing). Why 

{^Enier George, c. ) 

Marjorie {running to George). Oh, George, what do 
you mean by keeping me in suspense in this manner ? 

(^Both stop in a hesitating maimer.') 

Arthur. Go ahead. I'm not looking. 

(Marjorie a7id George embrace.') 

Marjorie {to Arthur). Thank you, sir. 

Arthur. Now, run along, the both of you. 

George. Can't I do anything for you, sir? 

Arthur. Not now. I'll ring when I need you. Oh, 
Marjie, you might ask your aunt to look in a moment. 1 
want to speak to her. 

Marjorie. All right. 

{Takes George's arin and dances out, l.) 

Arthur {picking icp ore afid examining it). '* Fool's 
Gold ! " 

{Enter Gertrude, l.) 

Gertrude {with dignity). Did you wish to see me? 

Arthur {rising and placing ore on table). Yes. There 
are one or two things I wanted to talk over. Won't you sit 
down ? 

Gertrude {sitting i..). Thank you. 

Arthur. How are the children this morning? {Sits.) 

Gertrude. I've just left them in the nursery. They 
are perfectly well. 

Akthur. Hasn't Jennie taken them out yet? 

Gertrude. Jennie has left. 

Arthur {astonished). What ! That is a misfortune ! 
You can hardly get any one to fill her place. Why did she 
leave so suddenly, after being with us so many years? I 
thought she was a fixture. 



40 THE CONGRESSMAN 

Gertrude. I sent her away 



Arthur {surprised^. Sent Jennie away ! Why? 

Gb:RTRUDE. Because we cannot afford to keep her. 

Arthur. You discharged her? Why, what do you pro- 
pose to do with the children when we go back to Washington ? 

Gertrude. 1 am not going back to Washington. 

Arthur. What do you mean by that? 

Gertrude. We cannot afford 

Arthur (J?iterruptiiig). There you go again with that 
*' cannot afford " ! You make me feel as if 1 were a pauper 
— or a thief ! 

Gertrude. I was going to say that we couldn't afford to 
live in Washington as we have been living. 

Arthur. Do you intend to cut yourself off from my 
political life altogether ? 

Gertrude. You know why I want to cut myself off 
from it. 

Arthur. I suppose you realize what people will say? 

Gertrude. There are plenty of congressmen's wives 
who do not go to Washington with their husbands. 

Arthur. But you have taken part in the life. You've 
been conspicuous. 

Gertrude. 1 cannot go back. 

Arthur. Cannot! Why not? 

Gertrude. 1 should merely be a drag on you. I know 
you would be happier without me. And, anyhow, I couldn't 
live as we used to live, knowing that the money 1 spend 

Arthur. Well ? 

Gertrude. Knowing where it comes from. 

Arthur {expostulating). Oh, now 

Gertrude. I had hoped that you wouldn't be renomi- 
nated, that you wouldn't have to go back to Washington^ 
except for the remainder of your present term. 

Arthur. You hoped that I would not be renominated, 
eh? I wonder how you'd feel if you knew what the loss of 
that nomination would mean to me? (^Rises.) 

Gertrude {rising). If it meant poverty or humiliation, 
Arthur, I should be glad to share it with you. 

Arthur. Now, please don't waste any heroics on me. 
But let me tell you one thing, Gertrude. Jf 1 am not re- 
nominated, I shall be a ruined man. Just at present, 1 
haven't five thousand dollars in the world ! 

Gertrude. And even that 



THE CONGRESSMAN 4I 

At^thur. Well ? 

Gkktrude. oil, why do you force me to say tliese 
things? Even that five thousand dollars is not lawfully 
yours ! 

Arthur. I see that it is useless for me to try to please 
you. I had resolved, on my return, to cast off all question- 
able influences, and devote myself to my duties with a feel- 
ing of absolute independence, but now Oh, by the 

way — Flint called while 1 was out, and, instead of stopping 
here as usual, has gone to a hotel. Why did you not abk 
hnii to remain ? 

Gertrude (nervotisly). I did not know that he called. 

Arthur. Well, there is something strange about it. 
However, I have sent John to fetch him here, bag and bag- 
gage. I intend to utilize this occasion to warn him that 

Gertkude {alar?7ied). Is he going to stay here? 

Arthur. Yes. Why not? 

Geri'rude {sighi?ig). Too bad ! 

Arthur. 1 know that you do not like him, but surely 
you won't object to his staying here a day or two. You've 
never ol)jected before. 

Gertrude. I didn't know him then as I do now. 

Arthur Qrngry). Just what do you mean by that? 

Gertrude. If he comes, I cannot remain here. 

Arthur. I see that it is about time I put my foot down. 
You shan't stir out of this house. You'll stay here, and 
you'll receive Frederick Flint as you receive all of my other 
friends. Do you understand ? 

Gertrude. Perfectly. 

Arthur. Then you won't do anything foolish? 

Gertrude. If that man comes here — I leave ! 

Arthur. Then if you do — you leave for good ! 

{Enter Henderson, c, followed by Flint.) 

Henderson. Mr: Flint. 

(Gertrude, without looking atYiA^T, goes toward door, l.) 

Arthur {starting toward her'). Gertrude! 

{Exit, Gertrude, l. Flint looks after her 7vith uneasi- 
ness, ilien turns toward Arthur, wlio stands rigidly, as 
though dazed.) 

QUICK CURTAIN 



ACT III 

SCENE.—Same as Act II. 

(^Discovered, Arthur at table, c, readifig letters, tele- 
gravis, etc.) 

(Enter Marjorie, door L.) 

Marjorie. Uncle Art ! 

Arthur (without looking tip). Yes? 

Marjorie {approaching). Say, Uncle Art ! 

Arthur. Well, what is it ? 

Marjorie. What's the matter? 

Arthur. Matter ! What do you mean ? 

Marjorie. You know. What's the matter between 
auniie and you? Oh, I'm not afraid of you. I don't mind 
your being cross with me a bit. 

Arthur. My dear little girl, you mustn't interfere with 
things that don't concern you. 

Marjorie. Please don't say that. Besides, they do con- 
cern me. I have a right to be concerned when I see auniie 
come out of here with her face just as white as chalk, and 
her eyes looking as if they were going to pop out of her 
head. 

Arthur. You see too much, Marjie. 

Marjorie. Well, what do you suppose my eyes were 
made for, anyway? Besides, I didn't have anything else to 
do. George has stopped speaking to me. 

Arthur. What for? 

Marjorie. Because I told him to. 

Arthur. Have you two been quarreling? 

Marjorie. No, we haven't. 1 just told him he'd better 
go and attend to your business, instead of billing and cooing 
with me. There were a lot of people who wanted to see 
you. So, as you were busy, of course George had to repre- 
sent you. 

Arthur (rising). Where are they ? 

Marjorie. In the reception room. 

42 



THE CONGRESSMAN 43 

ARTHUR. It's probably Callahan and his gang. I for- 
got all about them. 

(^Exit, c.) 

Marjorie (calling after Arthur). AVell, then tell 

George [Stamps her foot, angrily.') Nobody seems 

to care for me around here. I've a good mind to go home. 

{Turns L.) 

{Enter George, c.) 

George. Hello, Marjie ! 

Marjorie {back to George). Everything seems to be 
going wrong to-day. I almost wish 1 wasn't here. 
George. Oh, you do, eh? 

{Goes r., sitSy and bows his head in his hands.) 

Marjorie {glancing at George over her shoulder) . Now, 
don't be silly. 

George. I wish I could 

Marjorie. Could what? 

George. I wish I had the authority to compel you to 
stop being angry at me. 

Marjorie. Sir ! Is this a proposal ? If it is {sitting), 
well — I'll think about it. 

George. Think about it ? 

Marjorie. Yes. They always say that in books. I'm 
going to do this in the proper way, even if you don't. In 
the first place (/// a romantic manner), you'll have to speak 

to father {Brightly.) I have an idea. I'll pretend 

that I'm dad. {Rises.) Now, here's dad, strutting up and 
down the library. {Faces up and doian in imitation.) 
That's what he always does when he has some momentous 
question to decide. {Pauses and faces George; i?i a deep 
voice.) Well, sir? 

George {disgusted). Oh, say, now ! 

Marjorie. Oh, I'm serious about this. If you don't 
answer my questions I'll say "no" outright, and I'll get 
Uncle Art to discharge you in the bargain. {A^^ain imi- 
tating her father.) Well, sir, what can I do for you ? 

George {meekly). You can give me your child, sir. 

Marjorie. Now, you know very well you wouldn't talk 
like that ! I guess you don't know dad ! 



44 THE CONGRESSMAN 

George. Well, what would I say? 

Makjorie. Something foolish, 1 suppose. But this is 
what you ought to say. {^Assumes a romaiitic attitude.) 
Sir ! 1 love your beautiful daughter Marjorie, and 1 ask 
your permission to make her my wife. {Cha?ioes man- 
ner.) Then dad would say {wiitaiing)^ So! You want to 
marry Marjie, do you ? Well, you're about the tenth 
man 

George. What ! 

Makjokie. If you made a noise like that dad would 
probably order you out of the house. {Imitates her father.) 
Young man, since you are contemplating matrimony, 1 pre- 
sume you are in a position to support a wife. Um — ah — 
just what is your income? 

George. 1 guess 1 won't play any more. This is be- 
coming too personal. 

Marjorie {hand at ear). I didn't quite catch your last 
remark — five thousand ? 

George. Five nothing ! I get one thousand and found. 
That's about twenty a week spending money. 

Marjorie {iiatural voice). And you've been sending me 
all those flowers on that ? 

George. Well, flowers don't cost so much in the sum- 
mer, I intended to stop when cold weather arrived. 

Marjorie. Why, George, I thought you got ever so 
much more than that ! You poor thing ! Why, I spend 
twice as much as that myself, and I'm always sending home 
for more. 

George. Well, I can't help it if I'm not rich. 

Marjorie. Do you know what dad would do if you 
told him how little you are earning? Why, he'd laugh at 
you. 

George {sighing). Well, I suppose I might as well give 
you up first as last. 

Marjorie {impulsively). Well, I guess not ! {Restrains 
herself.) Say ! You're awfully interesting. Yes, really. 
What did you take such a position for ? 

George. I — I wanted to get into politics 

MarJ(jrie. Well, I might as well warn you that the 
mere sight of a politician makes dad froth at the mouth! 
Swell chance you'd have ! 

George. What about your uncle? 

Marjorie. Well, he says Uncle Art made the greatest 



THE CONGRESSMAN 



45 



mistake of his life when he gave up law to go into politics. 
No — dad would never let us — well, you know — if you were 
going to stick to politics — not to even mention the " twenty 
a week." 

George. What can I do, then? I'm not clever like the 
other fellows. Don't you suppose I know I'd have lost my 
position long ago if your uncle wasn't the kindest man on 
earth ? 

Marjorie. I guess I'll have to speak to dad myself. 
I'll make him give you a job in the factory. 

George. In the factory? 

Marjorie. Yes. But you'll have to overcome all your 
hifalutin notions. Dad'U make you put on overalls and 
begin at the bottom. 

George. How much would he give me? 

Marjorie. He generally starts boys at three dollars a 
week, but, perhaps through influence, you may be able to 
get as much as ten. Do you think you could support our 
box at the opera on that ? 

George {disgusted^. Oh ! 

(^Enter Arthur, c.) 

Marjorie. Oh, Uncle Art ! How much does it cost to 
keej) house ? 

Arthur. That depends. 

Marjorie. On what? 

Arthur. On whether you live in a house or an apart- 
ment — on the way you live — on how many servants you 
keep, and automobiles — and horses — and furniture — and 
paintings — and entertaining, and a thousand other things. 

Marjorie. How much does this house cost a year? 

Arthur. The rent is three thousand. 

MARJOUIEJ 0,^, 

George ) 

Arthur. What did you want to know for? 

Marjorie. According to that you couldn't possibly live 
well on twenty dollars a week, could you ? 

Arthur {smiling). Well, hardly ! 

Marjorie. I don't see how so many people can afford 
to get married ! 

{Enter Henderson, c.) 

Henderson (announcing). Mr. Graham MacDonald. 



46 THE CONGRESSMAN 

Marjorie. It's dad ! Come on ! Let's get out, quick ! 
(^Grasps George by the arm and runs him off, l.) 
{Enter Graham, c.) 

Arthur {shaking Jiands with Graham). Well, Graham, 
I am glad to see you ! 

Gkaham. Did you get the nomination ? 

Ak'ihuk. Don't know yet, 

Graham. Well, 1 hope you don't get it — then you'll be 
able to take up my law case. 

Arthur. You certainly are persistent about that law 
case. 

Graham. Well, perhaps you think that a little matter of 
a hundred thousand dollars isn't worth being persistent over? 

Arthur. Does it mean as much as that to you ? 

Graham. Well, I should think it did, and more, too. 
And it means twenty-five thousand to you if you win the 
case; and I'm so sure you can do it that I'll advance you 
all or any part of it whenever you say. 

Arthur. That is a great temptation. I need the money 
badly enough. 

Graham. Well, then, take the case.- 

Arthur. I'll tell you what I'll do, Graham. I'll take 
it 



Graham {interrupting). Good ! 

Arthur. If I am not renominated. 

Graham {disappointed). Then there's no chance ! 

Arthur. Don't be too certain. My renomination is by 
no means ''cinched." The progressives are putting up a 
mighty strong fight. 

{Enter Henderson, c.) 

Henderson. Excuse me, sir, but there is a gentle- 
men 

Arthur. All right — send him in. 
Henderson. Yes, sir. 

{Exit, c.) 

Arthur. Here's an opportunity for you to study ward 
politics at close range. 

Gf^aham. No, thank you, no politics for mine. I'll just 
stroll into the library and read the papers until you have 
finished. 



THE CONGRESSMAN 



47 



Arthur. But I can 

Graham. No. Don't let me interfere. 

(^Exit, L.) 

{^E titer Jim Callahan, c.) 

Arthur. Well, Mr. Callahan {shaking hands with Cal- 
lahan), what can 1 do for you ? 

Callahan. I've come back to have another talk with 
you. Congressman. 

Arthur. All right, Mr. Callahan. Won't you be 
seated ? 

Callahan (j-emaining standing'). I didn't know just 
what reply to make to your remarks till the committee got 
together. 

Arthur. Well, what is your decision? 

Callahan (hesitating). Well, the fact is — we ain't sat- 
isfied. We think you oughter make us a more out-an'-out 
promise. 

Arthur. I do not think I made a promise of any sort. 

Callahan. That's just the trouble. {Chews his cigar 
viciously.) We'se been workin' fer you, an' you'se ain't 
workin' fer us. So now, before we vote, we wancha ta cut 
the blarney an' git down to facts. See ! 

Arthur. You're a little indefinite yourself now, Mr. 
Callahan. 

Callahan. Well, I won't be no more, see ! The boys 
claim you'se went back on 'em. 

Arthur. How was that? 

Callahan. Ya didn't wiggle an eye-winker fer us. Tha 
boys ask fer jobs, an' ya let 'em all go to them Civil Service 
dudes ! 

Arthur. I was compelled to observe the law. 

Callahan. Aw, cut that ! You coulda give us them 
places if ya wanted ter. 

Arthur. With all your experience, Mr. Callahan, it 
certainly is not necessary for me to explain the requirements 
of a Civil Service examination. I would suggest that you 
provide your constituents with the proper instructions to en- 
able them 

Caij,ahan. That's all very well ta talk — but we'll pass 
that by. Whatcha goin' ta do now — that's the queslion ? 

Arihur. What do you want ? 



48 THE CONGRESSMAN 

Callahan. The boys voted ta knife ya, only Flint said 
ta come an' see ya once more, an' give ya a chance ta make 
good. 

Arthur. Well, all I can promise is that if any places 
come my way that are not covered by the Civil Service, you 
shall have them. 

Callahan. Say, Congressman, dat salve might lubercate 
tha feelin's of parsons an' sich like, but it won't go wit tha 
boys, an' you know it. Don't fergit they has to do tha 
dirty work. 

Arthur. Unfortunately it is all I have to offer. 

Callahan. Tha boys don't think yer record calls fer 
pultin' on airs about a little patronage. 

Arthur {sternly'). What do you mean by that? 

Callahan. 1 don't mean nuthin' ; the boys got ta talk- 
ing a little wild, I s'pose — sorta gettin' desprit. 

Arthur. 1 fully understand how you all feel, and I'd 
help you if 1 could. 1 only wish 1 could make you see that 
1 cannot do what is impossible. 

Callahan. Why " impossible " ? Wot's been done be- 
fore can be done ag'in. l"ha boys is tired a-takin' tha leav- 
in's. They can't live forever on tha scrap heap. 

Arthur. 1 repeat — I will do all I can 

Callahan. Which means <* nuthin' " ! All right, I'll 
tell tha boys whatcha say. Good-day, Congressman. 

[Limply shakes hands with Arthur, and exit, c.) 

Arthur. It doesn't require a mind reader to perceive 
that those fellows mean trouble and plenty of it. 

{Enter Henderson, c.) ' 

Henderson {handing card). Lady to see you, sir. 

Arthur {taking card, reading). '* Miss Genevieve Mc- 

Sorley " {Absently.) Where have 1 seen that name? 

Oh, yes, I remember. 1 suppose 1 shall have to see her. 

Henderson. Yes, sir. 

{Exit, c.) 
Arthur. Too bad she had to bother me to-day. 

{Enter Genevieve, c.) 
Genevieve {effusively). How good of you to remember 



THE CONGRESSMAN 49 

me, Congressman. But then it's a part of your business to 
remember peo])le, isn't it ? 

Arthur. Oh, }es, 1 remember you perfectly. 

{Places a chair for her,') 

Genevieve. That is very flattering, I am sure. {Sits.') 
Well, Congressman, I've come on a disagreeable errand. 

Arthur. I'm sorry to hear that. 

Genevieve. But with the best intentions in the world. 

Arthur. That makes it all right, then. 

Genevieve. 1 suppose I may as well come to the point 
at once. It's about that railroad matter. 

Arthur. Ah I But aren't your readers rather tired of 
that subject ? 

Genevieve. Not when there are new and exciting devel- 
opments. 

Arthur. Such as what ? 

Genevieve (reflecting). Well — thus far the papers have 
spared Mrs. Lawrence 

Arthur. Mrs. Lawrence.? What has she to do with 
that railroad ? 

Genevieve. I warn you it is very unpleasant, but I — 1 
consider it my duty to tell you. 

Arthur. Go ahead, then. 

Genevieve {deliberately). I happen to know that Mr. 
Frederick Flint has taken advantage of his hold on you to 
make love to your wife. 

Arthur (stmmed). This is the worst yet. 

Genevieve. Well, the worst of it is — 'tis true ! 

Arthur. I don't believe it. 

Genevieve. But I saw him. It was the night of your 
ball in Washington. He undeniably threatened her, and 
she undeniably was frightened, and, knowing your relations 
with him — it wasn't at all difficult for me to understand 
wiiat he was saying. 

Arthur. Why have you come to me with this vile story ? 

Genevieve. Because I thought you ought to know it. 

Arthur. Is that why you waited this long to tell me? 

Genevieve. No. I waited because I knew that to-day 
the information would be more valuable to me. 

Arthur. How more valuable? 

Genevieve. You public men are so dense at times ! 
Well, to be more explicit — although it will make a beautiful 



50 THE CONGRESSMAN 

Story, yet I could be prevailed upon to refrain from publish- 
ing it, if 

Arthur. You mean you want me to pay you to sup- 
press it ? 

Genevieve. Exactly ! That's it. 

Arthur. Well, you have come to the wrong man. I've 
done a good many things, during my career, that I regret, 
but I have never yet submitted to blackmail. 

Genevieve. That's a harsh word, Mr. Lawrence. But 
perhaps }'0U prefer to have your wife's name disgraced ? 

Arthur. I tell you the whole story is a lie ! 

Genevieve. Concocted by me, eh ? 

Arthur. Put any construction on my words that you 
please. But you can't work me for one cent. 

{Pounds table bell.') 

Genevieve [risi?/g). I'll queer your election for you ! 

{Ejifer Henderson, c.) 

Arthur. Show this lady out ! (Genevieve sfa?ids 
stunned — then suddenly sticks up her 7?ose «/ Arthur — laughs 
cynically and exit, Q.y followed by Henderson.) Of all the 

contemptible {E?iter Ge^trvt>^, i.., dressed for the 

street^ and carrying suit-case.) Why, what are you doing, 
Gertrude? 

Gertrude. I told you I was going away. 

(Starts for door, c.) 

Arthur (stopping her). Nonsense ! Don't be foolish ! 

Gertrude. You are only prolonging my misery. 

Arthur. Now, Gertrude, for heaven's sake calm your- 
self ! Give me an opportunity to straighten matters out ! 

Gertrude. I cannot remain here while that man is in 
the house. 

Arthur. Well, what is your reason ? 

Gertrude. Please don't ask me. It's better that you 
shouldn't. I've tried ! Oh, I've 

Arthur. There is a reason, then ! Now, then, what 
is it? (Gertrude i-/;//^/;;^ on chair, l., sobs.) Well, I'm 
waiting ! 

Gertrude. At our reception in Washington he — he in- 
sulted me ! 



THE CONGRESSMAN 5 I 

Arthur {astounded'). He insulted you? Tliis must be 
some fancy of yours. Why, Flint is the most courteous and 
suave — he's too suave. What did he say ? 

Gertrude. He said that he had been in love with me 
for years. When 1 endeavored to summon the servants, he 
said they were in reality his servants — that you were in his 
pay {Bleaks down and sobs.) 

Arthur. The scoundrel ! Why didn't you speak of this 
before ? 

Gertrude. I did not dare. He said it would ruin you ! 

Arthur. Ruin me? And you've kept silent just to 
protect me? {Bitterly.) I might have known what this 
life would lead to ! I've dragged myself through the gutter, 
and I've dragged my family with me. But it isn't too late 

to retract at least a part {Rings table bell. Enter 

Henderson, c.) Ask Mr. Flint kindly to step here. 

Henderson. Yes, sir. 

{Exit, c.) 

Gertrude {risi?ig). What are you going to do? 

Arthur. Oh, I don't intend to kill him. There shall 
not be any murder 

Gertrude. Oh, Arthur ! Don't ! Please don't, I beg 
of you ! 

Arthur. Hush ! He's coming ! 

Gertrude {faintly). Oh 1 

{Falls back in chair, fainting.) 
{Enter Flint, c.) 

Flint. Any news, Arthur ? 

Arthur {sharply). Flint ! 

Flint {astonished). What's the matter ? 

Arthur. You're a cad and a blackguard ! 

Flint. What ! 

Arthur. Get down on your knees, you scoundrel, and 
apologize for the insult you offered my wife ! 

Flint. Insult? It's a mistake ! 

Arthur. No ! There's no mistake ! My wife isn't in 
the habit of lying ! 

Flint. So ! This is your method of throwing me over 
— using your wife as a pretext 



52 THE CONGRESSMAN 

Arthur {seizing Flint by the throat and forcing him to 
his knees in frofit of Gertrude). There is my wife ! 
Apologize before I choke the life out of you. (^Chokes hint.') 

Gertrude. Oh, Arthur ! 

Flint (^sputter ing). 1 — 1 apologize. 

Arthur {releasing hwi). Now get out ! 

{Points to door, c.) 

Flint {pai? fully rising, limps to door, c, and turns to 
Arthur). You'll pay for this ! 

{Shakes his fist at Arthur a?id exit, c.) 

Gertrude. Oh, Arthur ! 

(Arthur goes to Gertrude; assists her to arise, puts his 
ar?n around her and helps her off, C. ) 

{Enter Marjorie ^//</ George, l.) 

Marjorie. Are your hands feverish and clammy ? And 
do you feel cold chills running up and down your back ? 
That's the way they feel in novels. Now, what are you 
going to say to dad ? Tell me, quick ! He'll be here in 
two minutes ! He said he was coming right in. Sh ! Here 
he comes now ! 

{Enter Graham, l.) 

Graham {inspecting them and the furniture). I thought 
you said that some one wanted to see me ? 

Marjorie {7iervously). Yes. This gentleman. {Fafs 
George on the back.) I think I'll get out of the way. 
Bye-bye, little one. 

{Exit, hastily, door c. ; frequently pops her head inside to 
listen and pantomijne encouragement to George.) 

Graham. Well, sir ? 

George. Well — er — you — that is 

Graham. What's the matter with you? 

George. The fact is, sir, I want to ask — er — that is — to 
ask a favor of you. 

Graham. What is it? Money difficulties? I told you 
this political game was bad business ! 

George. N-No — it isn't that. 



the congressman 53 

Graham. No ? 

George. It's something far more serious. 

GuAHAM. A-ha ! 

George. It isn't your money that I'm after — it's Mar- 
jorie ! 

Graham. What ! 

George. Yes, sir, I'm in love with her. 

Graham. Well, that's nothing remarkable. I believe 
most of the boys down home are. But I'm glad you like 
her. I'm sure it's quite a compliment. 

George. But I want to marry her. 

Graham. Oh, you do, eh? Well, that is quite a dif- 
ferent matter. (^Paces up and down.) You see, by the 
time she gets through college 

George {gasping). Through college ? 

Graham. Yes. Why not? Don't you believe in edu- 
cation for women ? 

George. Um — a — yes — (Marjorie pantomimes that she 
doesn't want to go to college, but wants hijn) but she doesn't 
want to go to college. She only wants 

Graham. Wants what? 

George. Me. 

Graham. You ? How do you know that ? 

George. Because she told me so. 

Graham. Oh, she did, eh ? Well, if that is the case, 
we'll have to know something about you. Now, for in- 
stance, just what is your present income ? Are you prepared 
to support a wife ? 

George. I — I expect 

Graham. That isn't the point. How much real money 
do you make — now? 

George. Well, not so very much at present. 

Graham. Um. — Any prospects ? 

George {hesitatingly). I don't exactly know. 

Graham. You don't know whether you have any pros- 
pects or not ? 

George. The fact is 

Graham. And yet you want to marry my daughter ! 
Well, I like your nerve, young man ! 

Marjorie {jumping betiveen them). That's just what T 
like, too. {To George.) I'm ashamed of you ! After all 
our practicing, too! {To Graham.) Now, look here, 
dad — {placing her hand on his shoulder) you've always 



54 THE CONGRESSMAN 

blamed me for not being a boy. Now, here's a son for you 
— all ready-made — with his wild oats all sown, and ready 
to buckle down to hard work. 

Graham {looking fro7n one to the other in amazement'). 
What does all this mean, anyway ? 

Marjorie. It means that you've got to give this young 
man a jo5 ! 

Graham. A job ! Where? 

Marjokie. In the factory. 

Graham. What ! {Points to George.) Him ? 

Marjorie. Yes. Him ! Now, don't make fun of your 
future son-in-law. 

Graham {to George). Are you willing to soil those 
white hands of yours ? 

George. Yes, sir, and glad of the chance. 

Graham. And take ten dollars a week ? 

Marjorie. What ! My precious work for ten dollars a 
week ? 

George. I'll take anything you think I'm worth, sir! 

Marjorie. Never ! {To Graham.) You'll give him 
twenty-five or I'll disown you ! 

Graham. Well, we'll see about that. 

Marjorie. And will you give us your blessing, sir? 

Graham. I'll send you home if you don't behave. And 
let me tell you one thing ! There's to be no engagement 
between you two for a year. Do you understand that ? 

Marjorie. Perhaps it's just as well. He couldn't afford 
to buy a ring, anyway. 

Graham. Just wait till your mother hears of this. 

{Exit, c.) 

Marjorie (huggino^ George). Oh ! You were just per- 
fect ! Come on ! Let's go and see mamma ! 

{Takes his arm and runs him off, l.) 

{Enter Arthur, c.) 

Arthur. It's a pity I didn't thrash that miserable scoun- 
drel 1 {Comes dow7i r.) 

{Enter Henderson, c.) 

Henderson. Mr. Landon, sir 



THE CONGRESSMAN 55 

Arthur. Show him in. 
Henderson. Yes, sir. 

{Exit, c.) 

Arthur. It looks as if Landon were trying to swing the 
Citizens' League to me. 

{Enter Landon, c.) 

Landon. How are you. Congressman ? 

Arthur. Ah ! Landon ! Glad to see you. {Shakes 
hands with Landon.) Won't you be seated ? 

Landon {drawin^r up a chair and sitting doivn v..'). I 
took advantage of recess to call and ask some questions. 

Arthur {laughing^. You always were great on ques- 
tions, Landon. 

Landon. I've been trying to persuade those fellows that 
you are a much misunderstood man. 

Arthur. In what way? 

Landon. They have been bothered by those stories the 
papers have been publishing about you. It's because they 
don't know, as I do, that you are mcapable of any dirty 
work. 

Arthur. Thank you. 

Landon. To be perfectly frank, a good many of our 
men have been boosting Francis, but we realize that he 
doesn't stand a ghost of a chance 

Arthur. You are frank, Landon. So now you are all 
at sea ? 

Landon. We certainly can't stand for Peters. He 
doesn't make any bones of admitting that he's an out-and- 
out machine man, so we shall have to choose you or stand 
pat for Francis 

Arthur. Which would help elect Peters. 

Landon. That is what it would amount to. 

Arthur. Landon, you are placing me in a very delicate 
position. What can Ido? 

Landon. You can give ray friends some assurances. 

Arthur. What assurances ? 

Landon. In the first place, you can give us your word 
that those stories are false. 

Arthur [rising^. Landon, do you remember that I told 
you before that those stories were too contemptible to be no- 
ticed ? 



56 THE CONGRESSMAN 

Landon {^disappointed'). Then you won't assist me in 
the fight I've been making for you ? 

Arthur. You must realize, Landon, that I'm a man, as 
well as a politician, and you can't blame me if I resent being 
placed on the rack like a criminal. However, 1 fully ap- 
preciate your motive. Fire away. 

Landon. Just what are your relations to Mr. Flint? 

Arthur. Frederick Flint has been my friend. I have 
trusted and respected him, but it may please you to know 
that recently I have discovered that he is an infernal scoun- 
drel, and 1 have given myself the pleasure of telling huii so 
to his face. 

Landon. Hurray ! I thought you would see through 
Flint some day. 

Arthur. He can deceive me no longer. Now, Landon, 
you have asked me for some assurances. I may as well tell 
you frankly that I can only give you the assurance of my 
good faith and honesty of intention. I've made blunders in 
my career so far that 1 shall regret to my dying day. I've 
been the target of the sensational newspapers, but many of 
the stories printed about me, I can honestly say, have been 
absolute calumnies. 

Landon. You know I've always stood up for you. 

Arthur. Oh, some of the censure has been deserved. 
But, no matter how great my mistakes have been, 1 have 
always been in sympathy with clean politics. My break 
with Flint will cost me many votes — j^erhaps cost me the 
nomination, but, if I am elected, I can have the satisfaction 
of going back to Congress with clean hands and a clear 
conscience, ready to do my duty wherever I may see it, 

Landon {e7ithusiastically). There ! That's the kind of 
talk I like to hear ! I'll get right back to the hall and go 
after it. Flint will undoubtedly strain every nerve to put in 
Peters. Cheer up, Congressman, all is not lost yet. 

{Shakes ha?ids with Arthur, and exit, c.) 

Arthur {aside). Too bad I didn't have the support of 
the Citizens' League before. I'm afraid it will come too 
late now. 

{Enter Marjorie, l., and runs dow7i c.) 

Marjorie. Say ! Mister Busy-man, I've got some news 
for you. I'm not going to die an old maid after all. 



THE CONGRESSMAN 57 

' Arthur (^playfully). Well ! That is news, indeed ! 

Makjokie. George has asked dad and received his con- 
sent — and we're going to be married — and George is going 
out of poUtics — and he's going to run the factory — and that 
is another reason why you'll have to take the law case, and 
we all hope you won't get nominated — and 

(^E liter Landon, c.) 

Landon. Excuse me, Congressman. May I see you 
alone ? 

Marjorie. Surest thing you know. I was just going, 
anyway. 1 tell you what, I'm a pretty busy woman these 
days ! 

{Exit, L.) 

Landon {handing fteivspaper to Arthur). Have you 
seen this? {Cofnes down c.) 

Arthur {taking paper — reading). ''Scandal in high 
politics ! Boss Flint insults wife of Congressman Lawrence I 
The outcome a probable split in the party. When thieves 

fall out, honest people get their " {Sighing — drops 

paper on table.) That's enough, Landon — the mud-sling- 
ers are out in full force. 

Landon (l. c). Who did that ? 

Arthur (r. c). That woman reporter on the "Argus." 

Landon. Genevieve McSorley ? 

Arthur. Yes. She attempted to blackmail me first. 

Landon. She isn't above that, either. 1 wonder what 
effect this will have on your nomination ? May I use the 
'phone ? 

Arthur. Certainly. 

Landon {startifig r.). I'm going to call up the hall. 

Arthur {suddenly). Landon, I wish you would tell the 
boys to withdraw my name. 

Landon. You surely cannot be serious. 

Arthur. Never more so. I'm sick of the whole game ! 

Landon. But your duty to the Commonwealth ? 

Arthur. That's just it — if I had only done my duty. 

Landon. Nonsense I 

Arthur. Landon ! I can't stand playing a part any 
longer. I'm a blackguard. I'm as vile as any of those fel- 
lows in Washington you've been fighting against. All that 
woman said in her article is practically true. 



58 THE CONGRESSMAN 

Landon. What ! 

Akthuk. 1 was hand in glove with that fellow Flint, 
until i discovered that he had been making love to my wife. 
If 1 hadn't found him out 1 shouldn't have had the moral 
courage to throw him over. 

Landon. Does Mrs. Lawrence know of this? 

Arthur. Yes. 

Landon {Jiesitating). And she ? 

Arthur. 1 don't wonder that you can't say it. No. 
She hasn't forgiven me. She never will ! 

Landon. Too bad ! 

Arthur. And, of course, I cannot expect to enjoy your 
confidence any longer. 

Landon. Why not? You have a greater claim on it 
now than ever. 

Arthur {grasping Landon's hand). Thank you, Lan- 
don. 1 don't deserve it. 

Landon. 1 know enough about public life to realize 
wliat tlie temptation must have been. 

Arthur {sadly). And to think that I wasn't strong 
enough to resist it ! (Recovers liimself.') Call up the hall 
and tell them — I'll just step outside and get a breath of 
fresh air — then I'll be ready to start life all over again ! 

{Exit, c.) 

Landon {raisitig receiver). 2983 Bryant. Yes — that's 
it— 2-9-8-3. Hello! Who's this? Yes? Well, this is 
Landon. You don't say ? (^///<f/' Gertrude, c. Stands 
watching Landon. Landon, 'ptwning). Well, I've just 
had a talk with Congressman Lawrence, and he requests 
that his name be withdrawn. Will you see to it? All 
right. That's all. Good-bye. {Hangs up receiver.) 

Gertrude {agitated). Who gave you authority to do 
that? 

Landon. Mr. Lawrence. 

Gertrude {slowly). He has refused the nomination ? 

Landon. Yes. But of course that will not hinder his 
return to politics later on. 

Gertrude. Do you think so? 

Landon. We need men like him in Washington. 

Gertrude {sighing jvearily). Heigho ! 

{Comes down L.) 



THE CONGRESSMAN 59 

Landon {coming down c). Mrs. Lawrence — I hope 
you'll pardon uie if 1 speak of something — something ihat 
is — well, that concerns you very closely. 1 do it only be- 
cause 1 believe in Mr. Lawrence, and because I care for his 
future and his happiness, and for yours, if you'll let me 
say so. 

Gertrude. Thank you, Mr. Landon. You've been 
very good to Mr. Lawrence. He has often spoken of all 
you have done. 

Landon. Oh, that's nothing. But — he — he has told me 
all about that man Flint. 

Gertrude {star tied). What ! 

Landon. He hasn't spared himself. I think he's even 
ma(ie the case out worse than it really is. 

Gertrude. And you still — you ? 

Landon. Yes. 1 believe in him. I believe he has 
been sufficiently punished for whatever wrong he has done. 
There are plenty of men in public life who have made mis- 
takes like his — some of them have since done fine work. 

Gertrude. Why have you spoken to me about this ? 

{^Crosses R. to him.') 

Landon. Because — well, because I suspect, from what 
Mr. Lawrence has said, that you are not in complete sym- 
pathy with his public life. 

Gertrude. That is true. I haven't been, lately. 

Landon, And I thought perhaps if you looked at things 
a little differently 

Gertrude. 1 shouldn't be so harsh ? 

Landon. Not exactly that — I thought perhaps you'd 
help him to get back where he belongs, that's all. It's 
going to be a hard fight. Most men wouldn't have the 
nerve to undertake it. But he has, if you'll only help him. 

Gertrude. You make me feel ashamed. If you can 
forgive him, after all you've done for him 

{Loud huzzahs heard, c.) 

(^Enter Arthur ^z;/</ Graham, c, ann in arm, followed by 
Henderson. Marjorie and George rush in, l., and 
come down, L.) 

Marjorie. AVhat was all that noise, dad ? 



60 THE CONGRESSMAN 

Arthur {coming to Gertrude, down k.). Gertrude, 
I've lost the nomination. 

Graham {coming down, l.). And I've gained a lawyer 
for my case. 

Marjorie {presenting George). And a bright young 
man to manage the factory. 

Gertrude ( goijig to Arthur, and holding his hands'). 1 
am so glad, Arthur. 

Arthur {delighted). What! You will forgive ? 

Gertrude. Yes, Arthur, for now we can start life all 
over again 

Arthur. And start right. {His hand strikes the lump 
of ore on table. He picks it up.) Henderson {handing ore 
to Henderson), you may toss this into the street. 

(Henderson takes ore and exit, c. Arthur takes Ger- 
trude /;/ his arms.) 

Tableau 

Arthur Graham 

Gertrude Marjorie 

Landon George 



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